A Matter of time
by agon
Summary: Hermione and a time turner related accident. better summary coming
1. Default Chapter

  
prologue:  
  
If one was watching the corner just across the street carefully that morning, as Minerva McGonagall was from the window of a less than fashionable teashop, one would have witnessed a meeting of no obvious interest.   
  
A man with light brown head streaked with grey appeared first and carefully checked his watch. A few moments later a second figure turned the corner. She had darker brown hair partially restrained in a ponytail, and was also paying close attention to her timepiece. They both looked up at the same moment, nodded recognition, and continued down the street together. It looked for all the world like two acquaintances meeting, perhaps for a business lunch, but Minerva McGonagall knew better. She sighed to herself and murmured, My dear children, it was about time.   
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
It was October of Harry, Hermione, and Ron's seventh year. The common room was full of fifth and seventh years: studying, fooling themselves into thinking they were studying, or sleeping in their notes. It was raining, as it had been for the past week. Water slapped at the windows and poured down the roof.   
  
The weather suited the mood of a certain familiar trio in the corner. Hermione was continuing all her subjects to NEWT level, and the strain was beginning to show. Harry was attempting to focus, but his mind kept straying. Ron was being peevish because it's difficult to be cheerful all by one's self.   
  
Ron risked a question.  
  
  
  
he was trying desperately not to be offensive, You should try and get a little sleep.  
  
Sleep? Are you mad? I'm not even half way through all the work for tomorrow's lessons.  
  
Maybe some tea than at least? I'm sure we can find a house elf.  
  
Tea. hmmm . . . That does seem a good idea, but I can get it myself. Without delay, she stood up and headed for the portrait hole. It was a walk that would change her life. 


	2. chapter two

Hermione pushed the portrait open softly and slipped into the corridor. She flexed her fingers as she walked through the dim castle. A door slammed in the distance. Hermione held her breath, but the footsteps faded away from her.  
  
She arrived in the bright kitchen a few minutes later and was nearly knocked down by Dobby. Miss, miss friend of Harry Potter, miss. How is Harry Potter?  
  
He's okay. I bet he'll come down to see you soon.  
  
Is miss needing something, miss?  
  
Could I make some tea please? As soon as she had spoken the word tea, two house elfs brought forward a tray. Hermione frowned; then, defeated for the moment, smiled her thanks. She drank her tea and chatted with Dobby for a bit. She left feeling cheered and freshly determined to call for elf rights.   
  
Hermione was not so cautious on her return walk. Her thoughts drifted back to the work awaiting her upstairs. She was composing the conclusion to her history of magic essay when it happened.  
  
Professor McGonagall appeared suddenly from around a corner. Ms Granger what can this mean.  
  
Professor I . . . She failed to stop walking as she turned to answer. Whatever she had planned to say was lost in the tumble down the stairs. It was not a long flight, but it sent her time turner, necessary for someone attempting a record number of NEWTs, spinning like a top on the smooth floor. Hermione vanished.  
  
Minerva McGonagall froze and her face grew pale. So that's how it happened,' she thought. She was soon in Dumbledore's office.  
  
After calming down. McGonagall finally said, It is a small comfort to know where or when, rather, she has gone.   
  
It is indeed. Well then Minerva, would you please inform her house in the morning. For the sake of all concerned, be vague.  
  
Yes, I will do that professor.  
  
Thank you, and good night.  
  
Good night.   
  
Professor Dumbledore pulled out a quill and began to write a letter.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Hermione's world swirled for a minute. She groped for her time turner, trying to still it. When her hand finally closed around something solid, she was holding a rock. Oh no, I'm in the stone age,' she panicked. But a more rational investigation revealed that she was still at the bottom of the same flight of steps, which were still well worn.  
  
Nerves overtaking her again, she jumped to her feet and checked to see that she had her wand. Thankfully it had not become a leafy tree branch or a pine cone. What year? What year?' Her eyes roved as if she expected it to be painted on the wall.  
  
Then, a voice behind her, a whisper, What are you doing out? She turned to face the voice. And who _are_ you?  
  
Hermione's eyes were wide with disbelief. It was Sirius Black. What can I say?'  
  
My name's Hermione, and I am going to find professor Dumbledore.  
  
I've never seen you before. You could be anyone. I'm coming with you.  
  
On cue three more voices piped up, So are we.   
  
Wands out do you reckon? asked a boy who could only be James Potter. The others nodded and surrounded Hermione. It was a silent walk. The absence of speech did not, however, prevent them from looking at each other Hermione with frank curiosity, the others suspiciously.  
  
They look so young, and so _young_.' It was unsettling.  
  
Mars bar, said James, and there was no more time to look.


	3. chapter three

Mr. Potter, may I help you?  
  
Yes, professor, well, we, two more heads appeared around the door, we stumbled across something, rather, someone, that we thought you should know about.  
  
Really? in your dormitory? Extraordinary.  
  
We weren't exactly _in_ our room professor.  
  
Oh, I see. A matter of a few steps, or corridors. Where is this person at present, If you'd be so kind?  
  
I'm right here. Hermione stepped into the room. And I'd like to speak to you myself. And by myself, her thoughts added.   
  
And you are?  
  
Hermione, sir, Hermione Granger.  
  
Very well, thank you young gentlemen, I shall be wanting to speak to you tomorrow, most likely  
  
But sir, we . . .   
  
He said firmly. I expect this young lady and I will have much to say.  
  
Dumbledore put a finger to his lips and smiled at Hermione. He waited in silence for several minutes, and then suddenly, Sirius's loud whisper could be heard distinctly He mustav'e put a silencing charm on or something.  
  
No Mr. Black. I have not. I shall send your head of house to account for you presently, all of you. You'll have two minutes head start. Beginning now. Good night.  
  
Three pairs of feet trudged down the corridor.  
  
Now, Miss. . Granger? you say Hermione nodded. What brings you to Hogwarts?  
  
A time turner. a pause. Or, it was a time turner She held out the rock on her palm.   
  
Oh, I see.  
  
I never actually left Hogwarts.  
  
I see that also. He motioned to the effect that she was wearing a Hogwarts uniform.  
  
I think you believe me.  
  
I do.  
  
You're my headmaster in the future, you know.  
  
I do not. and you mustn't tell me. You know the laws surrounding such objects. Do you not?  
  
Yes . . .  
  
Of course. Now what are we to do with you, a Griffindore, I see, but what year?  
  
Seventh. But Professor Dumbledore, don't you have another time turner? Can't you send me back, and soon? It would be dangerous to stay here, even a little while. I know, . . . I know things that have no place here.  
  
No doubt you do. But, I cannot help you, yet. It is just as dangerous to send you back and, as I think, more so. I do not know precisely when you are from, but in our time, using time turners to traverse years is no very exact matter. Furthermore, you must have been separated from your particular turner while it was still working. It ought not to have changed. It worries me.  
  
I have to stay?  
  
I am afraid so. My future self would not trust you idly I hope, and I trust that you will manage. He seemed now to mumble to himself. Those boys will want talking to, story as is very difficult. Minerva will have to know; we'll manage.  
  
He spoke again to Hermione, School is the best place for you I think. Just a moment while I speak to Griffindore's head of house. He rang a little bell that emitted a tinny roar. Have a sweet.  
  
Dumbledore, a slightly less severe looking professor McGonagall, and Hermione were having tea and a conference in McGonagall's sitting room. McGonagall, having absorbed the sensational facts, was having fun concocting a plausible history for Hermione.  
  
We'll have to make you foreign, with an English parent.  
  
I don't look very foreign.  
  
No, but I think Canada will do. No one here this year with Canadian relatives. She unrolled a map. Where would you like to be from?  
  
Prince Edward Island, Hermione said without hesitation, than blushed.  
  
Dumbledore gave her a puzzled look.  
  
It's from a muggle book. It's probably better if you know I'm muggle born anyway.  
  
Prince Edward Island it is. You'll have come to us from eastern Canada's school, The National Academy of Magical Arts and Sciences, it's very modern. Here's their, what do they call these . . . ? She held up a shiny, folded paper with distaste.  
  
Hermione supplied.  
  
An hour later found her in a small room full of maps and lists and books. She was to have the next few days to prepare for her at Hogwarts.


	4. Chapter 4

Dumbledore was rolling a sweet from one side of his mouth to the other and mumbling to himself. "Griffendore . . . and those boys . . . rascals (this with an indulgent smile) what can I tell them? Curses and a time turner, that ought not to have happened how many years I wonder and a muggle-born so many complications . . . have to call them in those boys and where was the last of them the little rat . . . in the kitchens perhaps . . . well, they won't believe me but better a nice firm lie than a lot of promises."

"We got your note professor," three eager faces looked up to his expectantly. "Who was that girl?" "Where'd she come from?" "Skulking about the castle as if she owned it . . ." "Bet I could guess where she's from."

"Ahhem! Would you like to hear what I've to tell you or not?"

"Yes please."

"Very well, that will require you to exercise the somewhat foreign faculty of listening." The slight was effective.

"I presume that you all would like to know about the sudden arrival of our new student."

"New student!" "We never get new students and it isn't even half term, and, but"

Dumbledore continued on smoothly, "Ms Granger joins us somewhat unexpectedly from Canada. The muggle aunt who was her guardian died unexpectedly and her nearest relation is here in England and naturally likes the idea of being on the same continent as her ward."

"Well but that's silly to move her hear right now." "And," said Remus quietly, "the accent is all wrong anyway, and she was wearing a funny uniform."

"Those are details that you will have to accept." Dumbledore was firm. "Ms Granger will be a Griffendore seventh year and I trust that you will do your best to make her feel welcome."

"But, but, . . . that can't be true."

"I'm afraid it is what you can be told and I suggest that you make what you can of it; Good day."

James Potter was stewing, heaving mad: "He's lying. I know it--bland hateful lies, who is she and what's she doing here? I don't like it one little bit."

"You think he doesn't realize that we don't believe him?" Remus asked his friend. "I don't think so, which means there must be something behind it really worth finding out it's a mystery!"

"Yeah, well it's a lousy one, it's just some girl."

"Just some girl? Sirius Black, since when have there ever been 'just girls' to you?"

"Yeah well, this one looked book-y bit stuffy and like she was scared of me or something, like she'd seen a bunch of ghosts or something, can't really fancy a skirt that's that _frightened_ of me."

"That's reassuring mate. . ."


End file.
